


Bound By Fear

by ToDefineIsToLimit



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Archivist Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Archivist Martin Blackwood, Archivist Sasha James, Archivist Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Horror, Multi, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Polyamory, Romance, Trans Martin Blackwood, Trans Sasha James
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToDefineIsToLimit/pseuds/ToDefineIsToLimit
Summary: Elias decides to take on four promising new archivists as possible harbingers of his new world but in doing soAccidentally makes all of the collectivelyThe Archivist™And binds their souls together as soulmatesWhoopsieNow for the small matter of getting one of them tramuatized 14 times[Title recently changed because i like this one better but it used to be "wow elias how come your fear god lets you have four archivists"]
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 26
Kudos: 91





	1. Fear Octopus

**Author's Note:**

> Some things  
> Peter/martin will not be endgame it just happens briefly  
> Martin is a transman  
> Jon is gender fluid and uses he/it/they depending on the day  
> Sasha is a trans woman  
> Tim is cis for plot reasons Only
> 
> Also expect canon typical spooks and tramautization

“So we’re... all archivists?” Jon said slowly.

“Precisely, there you have it. Four archivists. Think of it as an insurance policy. We can't take the PR issues of another archivist going missing like last time and I’m sure with four of you, you can keep eyes on each other,” Elias said with a cool but polite smile.

Sasha sat forward, “I’m sorry but out of the four of us I am the only one with any sort of background that would help with this. You have two researchers and a parapsychology major. None of them know how to deal with things like these. Why don’t you get the others from Artefact Storage? No offense to you all of course," She said acknowledging the three of them, "I’d just rather not see you all turned inside out by a funny-looking pamphlet.”

Martin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Yeah, he had been taught that spirits and demons and such were real growing up but the idea of these being more than rare occurrences wasn't something he was particularly prepared to acknowledge the possibility of yet.

“I think you’ll find they are all quite capable,” Elias said, smile unwavering.

“Yea don’t worry about us, Sash. I think we all know how real this all is,” His tone was mischievous and joking but even Martin who hardly knew him could hear something in his tone that belied the playfulness.

Martin caught Jon’s silent eye-roll.

“Good," Elias nodded, seeming pleased, "I’d like you all to start making audio recordings of the statements and getting them sorted in whatever manner you see fit but they must be sorted. You may also use the facilities in whatever manner you see fit. You'll be deciding your own hours so long as you can make suitable progress each month and one of you sends me a comprehensive progress report documenting it. Best of luck.”

“Thank you,” Martin said since no one else did and Elias nodded and left.

***

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Jon sighed looking around at all the water damaged, bent boxes of files that were spread around the floor, “Was she completely incompetent?”

That was actually a fair question in Martin's opinion.

Sasha frowned, “Something must have happened. I knew Gertrude. She was sharp as a tack up to the end. She wasn’t senile or anything... Maybe one of her assistants?”

“She had assistants?” Martin asked, finding a box labeled, ' _Statements with the word "Sock”_ ' and pushing it up against the wall between the boxes labeled, ' _Statements with the word "poptart"_ ' and ' _Statements with the word "the" said less than 20 times_ '.

“Well yeah, I heard she used to have six or seven but they all died, went missing, or became Head of the Institute,” Tim told him as he opened a file box but it was entirely full of paper cootie catchers.

Jon paused, “Elias used to work in the archives?”

Sasha nodded, “You would know that if you ever came to lunch with me and Tim and gossiped like a normal coworker.”

“I had work to do,” Jon said impatiently.

“Oh yeah, you had work _every day_?” Tim said with a teasing grin, “Or were you trying not to be seen as unprofessional by fraternizing with your coworkers?”

Jon’s face colored slightly and he opened his mouth to snap something back before Martin cut in.

“So you all know each other already?”

Tim looked at him with a lopsided smile, “Yeah me and our dear Jonathan worked together in research and Sasha was my contact in Artefact storage.”

“Jon,” Jon corrected, “or I’ll start calling you Timothy.”

Tim wrinkled his nose, “Fine fine.”

“You’re a new hire then?” Sasha asked more kindly than Martin had expected after her rant about the rest of their capability.

“Uhm yeah, just got the job last week. Which is good, I needed it.”

“Good for you,” Sasha smiled and Martin felt himself freeze. She was??? Really pretty???? He didn’t think he was breathing.

Then she looked away and the moment passed. He exhaled softly and started moving the next box. Okay?? He’d usually write that off as gay panic but?? Toward a girl?? Weird.

***

“Jon, relax it’s not a big deal,” Tim said nudging Jon with the toe of his shoe.

“It _is_. It's been a week and out of the four statements I’ve pulled two of them ended up distorted and we've had to do them on that recorder!”

Martin winced at his voice, he had been fighting off a headache for two days now and it didn’t help that he wasn’t able to sleep. The images of that first statement he recorded had filled his dreams with such a sickly vividness that he had half-expected to get up and find that coffin in his living room singing along with the morning rain.

“That’s not Martin’s fault just like it wasn’t my fault," Tim said defending Martin, then he grinned, "Hey Jon, can _you_ have a cigarette? I think you need to chill."

"Fine, fine, whatever! I suppose I'll be the only one actually concerned about our work getting done," Jon snapped. 

And with that, he marched off into one of the storage rooms. It was the third time today that he started sulking while filing after an argument. Clearly, he had much higher expectations of what they were supposed to be doing here than the rest of them. Truthfully, none of them _really_ knew what exactly they were working towards down here and it was difficult to settle on which of them was right about any given task.

Four archivists, no leader.

Martin gazed off in the direction that Jon had just stormed off, "I think I'm going to go talk to him."

"You sure that's a good idea, Martin?" Sasha asked, with a slight wince.

Martin hesitated, "Not really?" he said questioning himself more than anything, "It's just- we can't leave him like that! He's having a bad day, but maybe... I can talk some sense into him?"

Tim barked out a laugh, "Jon? Have sense? Don't be ridiculous, he has only raging professionality and a caffeine addiction.'

Martin laughed slightly at that, "Just as well though I really ought to go follow him to see if I can help. You and Sasha have certainly done your part."

They had spent most of their day already trying to talk Jon down to a reasonable state.

"Alright whatever you say," Sasha said with a shrug. Martin stood up from his desk and made his way down the hall toward the storage room that Jon had gone into.

He could hear the muttering before he even entered the room, Jon's voice quietly but angrily stating everything that the three of them had clearly done wrong and everything that the three of them clearly weren't taking us seriously as he was. 

If Martin wasn't mistaken, there was an edge to his voice as if Jon were nearly about to cry.

"Why couldn't Elias just pick me anyway?" He all but growled, "When I went into his office he said that I would be archivist, not one of four. Why couldn't he just put one of us in charge? Sasha or me or…... Sasha?"

He was audibly struggling with one of the filing cabinet full of statements. Almost all of them were dented and rusted from what seems to be almost intentional misuse.

Martin pushed the door lightly and it drifted open revealing Jon tugging frantically at the top drawer of the filing cabinet which was either locked or warped closed, though it was unclear which. Through it, he was still mumbling under his breath, and with a rough growl, he tugged at the handle to the filing cabinet. 

And apparently, he had tugged just a touch too hard that time because the cabinet came falling forward, apparently too top-heavy to keep its balance with jon throwing his body weight into tugging it. 

Martin lunged, forward with a noise of surprise, bracing a hand against the corner and pressing, pushing the cabinet back against the wall, steadying it. 

It only occurred to him as he stood there frozen that this action lead his chest to be pressed up against Jon's back. Jon was corraled between the cabinet, wall, and Martin. Jon seemed frozen as well and they both just stood there for a second.

Jon quickly jerked away, "What was that?" he demanded, anger in his voice despite a slight shake to it which implied that he must have known what had almost happened.

"S-sorry," Martin apologized, drawing his hand back away from Jon and the cabinet and taking a few steps back for good measure making sure to give Jon the amount of personal space that would be reasonable and such a small room.

Jon's face was slightly red, "You- you could've just warned me that it was going to tip."

"I didn't think there was time," Martin said honestly, "if there was I would have I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I suppose it was kind of you to help," Jon said sharply in what was probably the closest thing to a thank-you that Martin was going to get, "What are you doing in here anyway?"

"I was coming to check on you…" Martin told him, "I wanted to see if you were alright. You seemed upset."

"I'm fine." 

"Oh yeah, clearly," Martin laughed, "you're only pulling cabinets over on yourself that weigh more than you do."

The fury flared anew in Jon's eyes signaling to Martin that this had been the wrong time to make a joke.

He quickly barreled on hoping that he could brush past the awkward tension, "So what's wrong? You seem more upset than I would expect about a couple of recordings being distorted."

Jon was quiet for a long moment, his eyes on Martin were tangible.

"Martin, how long did you work to get this job?"

Martin froze. He quickly counted the number of years that he put on his CV form. Parapsychology. How many years did you go to school for something like that? 

"Five. Almost six," Martin lied hoping that that was the right number.

Jon nodded as if this merely confirmed a suspicion that he'd already had, "I have been working to get a job like this one for 21 years. I started in the copy room here, Martin. I worked my way up to research, and now that I finally have this job, I have to share it with someone who has only got five or six years of experience and it's in _parapsychology_."

Martin stood there breathlessly waiting for Jon to continue.

"You'll have to excuse me if I'm not too keen to share the position that I worked so hard for. I would have respected it if Sasha or Tim got the position or I suppose even you really, because at least then it would have been Elias making a decision. But now? Now my greatest academic achievement, what was to be the biggest step in my career, the largest leap forward I _ever made_ now it's a participation trophy to be shared with people who care for less than I do about getting these archives in order and understanding where the statements came from."

"I want to know where they came from!" Martin defended.

"And I need to," Jon said simply.

Martin was quiet for a moment, "...What makes you think that we don't care as much?"

Jon's tenuous hold on his control seemed to finally snap at that, "Have you seen yourselves during this past week?! Tim's listened to Panic! At The Disco more than he's filed statements! You and Tim have both been lazing around whining about having a headache. I've looked into it, there's no gas leak down here, there's no excuse, get some Advil. Sasha is the only one who even seems to be vaguely trying and even she is poking fun at the old archivist non-stop rather than getting to work. I don't care how good the Thai noodles you guys got from the takeout restaurant are, I don't care if your new sweater is really really soft 'no really Jon you have to come touch it'. _All_ I care about is getting these archives in order and _finding out the truth_."

With that Jon managed to finally rip the top drawer of the cabinet open and from it, he withdrew a thick stack of files and retreated from the room towards his desk.

***

Five or six weeks passed like that. Jon would complain about their inefficiency, Tim would crack jokes at his expense, Sasha and Martin would try to talk him down, and slowly it became merely routine. 

Jon would come in and assign them all tasks as if he was the boss, and if they did not complete them in a time frame which he thought was appropriate he would shout. Not so much at Tim and Sasha though, Tim and Sasha at least had some real claim to this job, as Jon kept reminding Martin.

And he was right. To an extent, though Martin did have a tendency to just blow him off when he got all bossy, he wasn't actually Martin's superior even if he perhaps should be.

Martin didn't truly belong on the same level as the rest of them.

Sasha had worked in artifact storage, after all, and knew better than any of them what these artifacts can do and that some of them _were_ real as much as Jon tried to deny it. 

Tim and Jon had been researchers but Martin was honestly just a nobody who had walked in off the street.

Martin did his best to help where he could, he alphabetized statements, once he figured out how the statement numbers work he sorted them by date, he typed up Tim and Sasha's notes on the follow-ups, and overall he thought he was being quite helpful but it was never quite enough for Jon. Tim and Sasha thanked him profusely for his help as both of them absolutely hated the endless typing and they cheerfully took on any extra statements that he didn't feel like reading that week. So that was enough for Martin.

Of course, there were only so many that they could even do. The ones that wouldn't record digitally... they always left them tired, drained, and because they all recorded them in the same room, it didn't matter if Martin was the one to record them or not he would find himself tossing and turning at night with nightmares of the horrors that he has listened to.

Headaches persisted. For Jon and Sasha too but nobody mentioned it as they realized the pattern because of course, they realized the pattern.

"What if we..." Martin said to the silent room one day as they all quietly worked on follow up on statements they have recorded earlier in the week, "filed the tape recorder statements separately from the digital ones? I don't know why but I don't think... I don't think that they're _quite the same_?" 

Martin had a feeling that they had all been thinking it but he was the first to say it, the first to acknowledge that those ones were different.

The others had been having nightmares too but Jon wouldn't talk about his, Tim claims that he was fine even though it seemed like he was more dead on his feet every day but Sasha admitted that since starting this job she'd been having "fever dreams".

Just endless cacophonies of scenes replaying over and over not making sense, incongruent pieces of statements bleeding together in a way that horrified her. One that particularly frightened Martin when she recounted it was about silvery worms chasing her through a narrow cave that shifted in change as she crawled through it, while different horrified voices screamed at her from all sides.

Martin's dreams however getting stranger because each one began the same. The moment he fell asleep Martin would find himself standing beneath the sky which stares and blinks down at him. Then whatever the most recent statement that one of them recorded was he began to relive it as if he was going to the story again. As if it had happened to him.

And that didn't stop in his dreams every time he recorded or even heard a statement recorded he could feel it as if it happened to him personally. He could still feel the tiny legs skittering over Carlos Vittery's skin and he could still hear the faint music of a far off piper on a battlefield.

"Why?" Jon asked, breaking through Martin's reverie.

"You _know_ why Jon," Sasha said quietly, serious in a way that she so rarely was. 

The room was quiet for a long moment, the only sound was the clock on the wall ticking away the seconds.

“Look we agreed that we would be a democracy,” Tim said reasonably, “Everyone in favor of filing taped statement separately?”

Tim raised his hand and Martin followed and they were quickly joined by Sasha. Jon sighed softly and raised his hand, “You’re right....”

“Great then... all we have to do is do a sample of each statement on the digital and see if it takes,” Sasha suggested brightly, “That way we can sort out those easier.”

“And do away with the filth,” Jon concluded darkly, then his brow furrowed as if surprised by his own choice of words and he seemed to shake off whatever notion had caused him to say that and corrected, “Rather the statements which prove to be false.”

“Great, then let's just start with this stack, we’ll all sit round the table and take turns trying to record the opening part, we run both sets of equipment to save time, and if the digital playback is distorted we’ll assume it's a taped one and just leave it till…” Tim trailed off leaving the recording process to the whims of the nebulous future.

Martin really hoped they never got around to record the taped ones.

“Sounds good,” Martin agreed, “I’ll get everyone tea while you guys set up a laptop for it.”

“Thanks, Martin,” Tim said, dropping a kiss on Martin’s cheek as he made his way to the center table with a thick stack of statements in his hands.

Martin clicked his tongue, “Tim!” 

“I’m sorry, the prospect of having tea overcame me. I couldn’t control myself!”

“Tim, please at least try to have an air of professionality around the office,” Jon said tiredly because this was the third time this week that he’d had to lecture Tim on the appropriate times and places for ‘amorous conduct’.

“Right I forgot, no kissing the archivists,” Tim said as if scolding himself, then he looked at Jon with a brilliant grin, “Sorry gorgeous, won’t happen again.”

“ _Tim._ ”

“Fine, I’ll still do it but only if you ask nicely.”

Sasha laughed and Martin just shook his head and headed to the break room.

The archives were _big_. There was a break room, two long hallways at the end of one was a bathroom with three showers. At the end of the other hall was what appeared to be bunks, no less than eight bunk beds were in the room, most of which were taken by some long past inhabitant and had blankets and pictures or posters lining the wall next to it. Martin hadn’t gotten a chance to look properly at any of them yet. 

There were also eight or so offices but all of the desks had been pushed out of them and brought to the main room where the four of them had been working. Then there were the storage rooms of which there were ten (not including the private ‘archivist’ storage in which they had found a cot and several sets of clothes that almost certainly had belonged to Gertrude).

Jon had of course been absolutely incensed by the very idea of becoming so comfortable in one’s workspace, going on a rant expounding the virtues of never showing weakness of any kind while on the clock. Martin wasn’t even surprised by that point. 

It was kinda cute when Jon got all fired up unnecessarily.

Then there was the break room which was truthfully an entire kitchen complete with stove, oven, and refrigerator. 

Martin didn’t know who had been living in these archives but… they were still everywhere. Whoever had gone through to tidy it had only done a cursory cleaning because there were little bits of the previous occupants everywhere. A note inside an empty sugar container that said "Emma I moved my candy stash, stop trying to find it. -G", a hairbrush tucked in a storage room drawer that had the label "Micheal" on it, there was also shampoo and a deck of cards in the desk that had become Tim's.

Martin was surprised by it all but there hadn't really been time to investigate and he certainly wasn't going to ask Elias about it all. So he just went about his day and sod his best to ignore it.

He finished up making the tea soon and carried it out to the others.

He set the tray down and passed each mug to its respective owner. Green tea for Sasha, Earl Grey for Jon, something with orange that Tim had picked up for himself, and mint for Martin. He preferred herbal teas because the caffeine in black tea made him nervous.

"Right, thanks Martin, let's get started shall we?" Sasha said, picking up the first of three statements laid out in front of her and Martin took his place between her and Tim in front of his own small stack.

"Alright," Jon said tapping a few things on his computer, "Begin." And with that, he pressed start on both the tape and the computer.

"Statement of Kiya Law about a cage she and her friend encountered in the summer of 2013. The date written is December 18, 2015." 

Jon stopped the recordings and played back the one on the computer in the headphones he was half-wearing. 

He nodded, "Crystal clear."

"Alright, let's start a pile, fakes here," Tim said, tapping a little off-center of the table.

"Right," Sasha set it down, "Martin, you next."

"Begin."

"Martin Blackwood, archivist at the Magnus institute recording statement number 9970503. Statement of Josiah Stewart given 3rd May, 1997."

Jon stopped it and played back the recording in his headphones, "It's fine."

Martin sighed with relief and put it in the pile on top of Sasha's.

Tim picked up his and cleared his throat. Even he seemed a little tense with this game of Russian roulette they were playing.

"Begin," Jon said, eyes trained on Tim.

"Uh- well Archivist Stoker reading the statement of Elena Russo regarding strange singing she heard on a Beach in America."

The click of the tape recorder stopping Jon listened quietly for a moment.

"That one's fine as well," he shuffled his equipment to make room for a statement from his own pile and clicked the recorders to start, "Statement of Father Edwin Burroughs, regarding his claimed demonic possession. Original statement given May 30th, 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London."

Martin found himself interested in this one, he had been raised Christian, although not catholic and he was curious about what lead a Father to believe he'd been possessed by a demon. He found himself so taken with the idea that he almost didn't notice when Jon didn't stop. Almost.

"Statement begins."

He tried to open his mouth to remind Jon to stop but… didn't. Maybe he didn't really want Jon to stop...

"Thank you for coming. I know that this can’t have been easy to arrange, and I appreciate the opportunity to make my statement. The Prison Service probably didn’t make it easy for you," Jons brow was furrowed and his face was slightly red as if he was straining, "Either way, I choose to make my statement, and if you’re not real, then hopefully, no harm done."

Finally, he slumped slightly as if giving up and merely thrust the paper in Sasha's direction. Sasha looked as surprised as anyone as she said, "We’ll get to the cannibalism, of course, but first, I just want to provide some context."

She continued like that for some pages until after Bethany Died and Burroughs turned to drink. Martin could taste the stolen sacramental wine.

Sasha passed the pages to him next. She was shaking. He didn't want to read. He wasn't going to but needed to know what happened to him. What happened to Burroughs. His eyes fell upon the page and his mouth and throat began to form sounds.

Martin read on, explaining the events of that night at hilltop road from a new perspective.

"I sat there for a while catching my breath, and when he came back inside, I told him I had completed the prayers and excused myself quickly. It was the first time I had experienced -" Burroughs stopped abruptly.

They all sat quietly for just a moment, not sure where to go from here. Until Tim spoke with intention in his voice, staring almost hungrily at the incomplete stack of papers in Martin's hands, " ** _Where is the Rest of it?_** " 

Jon's face went completely blank, he stood abruptly and walked off without a word and Martin went a little boneless in his chair. That was it then. 

What had just happened to them? He couldn't voice the question, it just sat there heavy on his tongue, the silence was broken only by the subtle hum of the tape recorder which brought the heavy weight of being Listened To. Even if just by a machine. He felt he shouldn't leave yet but he didn't know what they were waiting for.

Until Jon walked back in with pages in his hands and immediately passed them to Tim.

"I- I knew where they were," he said softly looking frightened, "I don't even remember deciding to look for them."

"Thank you," Tim said firmly in a very un-Tim-like fashion.

Jon sat down.

"It was the first time I had experienced anything like that. By this point, I was starting to suspect that I may have been having hallucinations of some sort, but I had never before felt a… a presence within myself, inside my being," Tim continued with a particular glint in his eye and as Martin flicked his eyes around the room and saw it reflected in Jon and Sasha's frightened faces he knew it to be curiosity. Passionate, hungry curiosity. 

Martin didn't know if the feeling was from Burroughs or himself but he knew just what the exorcist was talking about. A presence. 

Why couldn't they stop reading?

Then Tim eventually began to stumble, his voice trembling with fear "The eyes of every man, woman and child stared blankly forward, and their- their mouths hung open, wide and _smiling_ ,- j-Jon- L-like their jaws h-had- _Jon please_ ," He was trying to pass the papers to jon with shaking hands.

Jon shook his head minutely but his hands reached out anyway, sating the paper away. His voice taking over, weaving together the scene as soon as the page was close enough to read.

Jon carried on, expression dark, his voice full of the pain Burroughs must have felt, until he finally came to Burroughs final words, "I do worry about the state of my soul, of course, but there is little to be done. My old colleagues have come by on occasion, and even the Bishop once, but it doesn’t help. Whatever they may actually be saying, all I can hear is the sound of the bell…...Thank you for your time."

"Statement ends," Martin heard and it took him a moment to realize that all of them had said it. They all sat there silent and shuddering, Sasha composed herself first.

"Archivists' notes…" Sasha tiredly began, "All archivists took part in recording this statement, unable to stop reading unless It was given to another. And… I don't think any more research will be done into the matter of Father Edwin Burroughs. Some things are better left to rest."

Jon, in his first movement since the statement ended, pressed the button on the tape to stop it.

"I need a drink," Tim said hollowly, hoisting himself out of the chair, "I'm off for the rest of the day. 

Martin gaped at him, " Tim! We should talk about this!"

"And we will," He said throwing his jacket on, then he forced a smile, "we will talk about it somewhere smokey with too much alcohol in our blood to be afraid! C'mon."

Jon stood, following Tim out the door, still clutching the tape recorder in his hands.

Martin sighed and stood to follow, "You coming?"

"Y-yeah just uh? Give me a minute to get my stuff? I don't… I don't think we should be alone right now."

Martin nodded.

***

"Okay," Tim said, "Okay…. Okay yeaH here's how i see it. That…. Was pretty _fuckin_ weird."

"Thank you Tim very eloquent," Jon rolled his eyes.

"But he's- I mean he's right isn't he?" Sasha gestured with her drink, "like how did you even know where the second half was?"

"Lucky guess?"

"Bullshit, there are over three thousand statements," Sasha said, "Three thousand four hundred sixty-eight to be exact."

"How did you know that number?" Jon challenged.

"Lucky guess."

"Are we just gonna ignore how weird Tim was acting?" Martin asked, "Like the way he asked where the rest of it was was weird…"

Tim laughed, "God yeah it was. So I have an idea of what in the Fuck was going on who wants to hear my theory?"

"Well I have one of my own," Sasha said poking Tim in the chest.

"Oh yeah, whaddya know 'bout Robert Smirke?" Tim arched his eyebrows and Martin had the strangest impulse to kiss him.

"What do _you_ know about fear?" She crossed her arms.

Tim grinned curiosity sparking in his gaze again, "Why don't you tell us all about it?"

***

"So- so let me get this straight," Martin said holding up a finger on each hand, "there is a God of fear it has like fourteen powers?"

"I see it as arms on an octopus," Sasha was slumped on the table.

Jon was leaned into her side and yawned, "but octopi only have eight arms, and Tim said Smirke counted fourteen."

"He was kinda guessing," Tim admitted, "Plus he thinks it's fourteen separate entities and I do prefer the idea of one entity with different facets."

"'I contain multitudes,'" Martin quoted and tried to remember who said that again.

"Plus they tend to Bleed together so really view it how you want but yeah magic fears," Sasha said.

"We work for one that likes just like collecting the other?"

"Yeah," Tim agreed, "that's gotta be it I mean? why else would it keep us reading?"

"Kay yea," Jon said shocking himself upright, "So we must- must _warn_ Elias right?"

"No no I don't trust that guy as far as I could throw him," Tim's nose wrinkled, "Let's keep this quiet until we can figure out how much he knows."

Jon frowned in the most adorable pout, "Fine but only because you're my friends." And with that, he collapsed sideways into martin's Lap, "Martin please pet my hair before this is awkward."

"I? Okay?" Martin did as he was told and Jon hummed in delight.

Martin glanced up at Tim who was grinning and snapping a picture, the Sasha who was smiling too and good she was so pretty.

"Alright," Sasha said, "It's our secret then."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> elias throws a party and the archivists are expected to be there  
> so is every other avatar for that matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally the longest chapter i have ever written but to be honest I'm actually really proud of it and the way it flows so I'm not gonna split it into two like i normally would
> 
> content warning:  
> -cannon typical unreality  
> -canon typical horror in general really  
> -selling people and reference to people as goods  
> -emotional manipulation  
> -boss/employee relationship (its jonelias but it's literally gonna be limited to this chapter and elias is faking feelings so I'm not adding it to fic tags)  
> -only fair i tell y'all now the Peter/Martin in here is not gonna be very nice either
> 
> oh and i might go on a bit long about their outfits, sue me 💕

“Good morning, my archivists!” Elias said cheerfully and a bit too loudly for any of them, it was unclear if their raging headaches were from the mass amount of alcohol they had consumed the night before or the statement yesterday but either way Tim felt as if someone had taken an ice pick to the inside of his head, “I trust you’re all making some progress down here? I have complete confidence in your abilities.”

Tim saw as Jon sat up stock straight and tried to straighten its slightly rumpled sweater.

It'd been crumpled in on itself all morning since it woke up in Tim’s flat. It, unfortunately, remembered all of last night and hadn't looked Martin in the eye since.

“Ah hello Mr. Bouchard,” Jon said as Elias approached them.

“Now Jon how many times must I tell you to call me Elias?” Elias said in a tone dripping with praise and Jon _preened_.

Tim didn’t manage to contain his scoff and exchanged a glance with Sasha who nodded and rolled her eyes.

“You’re also doing quite well Tim, Sasha,” Elias said turning his attention to them.

Tim bristled slightly at the pointed exclusion of Martin, he could see the man curling into himself out of the corner of his eye.

Tim kept his tone polite, “Anything we can do for you, boss?”

“Indeed, I was hoping you all would accept an invitation to an institute function. A masquerade held at my own home. I would very like much my archivists to be there as a sort of introduction between yourselves and some high-paying institute donors. They have a particular interest in the improvement of the archives and I think meeting you all might offer some assurance.”

“Absolutely,” Jon said, its eyes fixed on Elias like he hung the moon, “We’ll be there. What’s the dress code?”

“Formal. Your mask must match your outfit and cover at least half of your face, I assume funds are rather tight for you all so if you like I can have my tailor, Angelo, come down here and take your measurements later today and I’ll take care of the bill for whatever he makes you.”

“You don’t have to…” Sasha said seeming just as nervous as Tim was about this, “Also I Don’t know if I’ll be free that night so probably better to not until I find out.”

“Well, what nights are you busy this month?” Elias said easily.

Sasha’s smiled strained, “Every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night.”

“What luck It’s set to be on next Tuesday, from five until midnight. Shall I send the tailor?”

Sasha slumped in her seat, “Yes please.”

“Do you have any suggestions for where to get masks?” Martin asked shakily.

“Angelo will take care of everything,” Elias waved away the concern, “I’ll send a car to pick you all up at your homes around four-thirty Tuesday. If you need anything contact me.”

And with that, he left. Tim dropped his head onto the desk and let out a groan.

“Jon, why did you agree to that?” Sasha demanded.

“W-well Elias needed us,” It said as if this was all quite reasonable, “And I just thought that-”

“That it might catch Elias’s eye if it acted like a suck-up, “ Martin muttered a little too loudly to not be heard.

Tim bit his lip trying to contain his laugh and Martin’s eyes flew wide as he realized he’d been heard. He’d been a bit tense all morning because he’d just read a statement day before yesterday and the forced statement hadn’t helped. Jon’s face colored.

Martin sighed, “Sorry, Jon I-”

“I hardly see what’s wrong with trying to impress our boss as we fill this new position,” It snapped.

“Hmmm, do you think you’ll take his name?” Tim teased, “‘Jonathan Bouchard’ a bit pretentious but that’s alright I guess.”

“Maybe ‘Elias Sims’,” Sasha offered with a grin.

“Shut up,” Jon hissed.

***

The next day Angelo came by and took their measurements, and quietly discussing with them what they had in mind. Tim himself merely opted for the most obnoxious pattern Angelo would allow.

“I was thinking sky blue and lemon yellow stripes,” Tim proposed.

“Hmmm, yes, however, I was thinking something that wouldn’t get both of us fired. How about… midnight blue and gold embroidery on the lapels with a matching design on the mask. You can either wear your hair braided or half of it up in a bun,” At this Angelo looked up over the rims of his glasses with a kind smile, “I am sorry Tim. I do enjoy your style but my family has been serving the heads of the Magnus Institute since Jonah Magnus himself, I can’t lose this job.”

“That’s alright, I can appreciate a man who knows a good Hawaiian shirt when he sees it.”

***

And soon enough Tuesday rolled around.

When Tim arrived there was a clothing rack which had each of their outfits in bags with their names on them, when the day ended they each retrieved their own bags, and Tim headed home to get ready.

He turned on his favorite classic rock playlist and jammed out as he showered and blow-dried his hair (now that it was long it would take hours to dry on its own and he didn't want to put it up while it was wet). He opted for the half up bun look and set about getting dressed. 

He fumbled with the tie some, it had been some years since he last had to wear one and he was a tad rusty but once the look was complete he looked all fancy and high brow and everything. The embroidery had a delicate pattern that almost resembled eyes and it covered the lapels of his jacket and his mask (a simple thing that only covered from his eyebrows to his cheekbones).

Well if this didn't finally get Jon and Sasha's attention nothing would. He knew he was attractive generally but dressed like this? He was a knockout. He grinned at himself in the mirror, for a moment before a knock sounded at his door. He went out to check it opening the door and there stood an older man in a tux.

"Your coworkers are in the car, sir. Are you ready to leave?"

"Oh! Uh yeah totally just give me a sec, I need to grab my keys and stuff."

He soon followed the man out to the car and he opened the door revealing Jon, Martin. and Sasha inside, and Tim froze for just a moment.

"Wow," he breathed managing to regain his bearings, "You all look great." 

Martin laughed awkwardly and Tim looked at him.

He was gorgeous, his suit had a similar design to his own but the colors were different a pale almost silvery grey, and the embroidery was done in a soft blue, the mask delicately draped like water over Martin's forehead, his nose, one eye and over his cheek. Freckles peppered his face where it was uncovered, and his hair fell in loose ringlets around his face.

"Helloooo? Tim?" Martin waved a hand.

"Huh?" He managed, coming back to the moment slightly.

"If you're quite finished catching feelings for Martin," Jon said in that rude tone that meant he was mostly joking, "Sasha and I just said you look very nice as well."

Tim blinked and looked at Jon making the concerted effort not to bi panic over them as well. They were wearing a dark green dress which was closely fitted to their narrow frame but fluffing outward with layers of fabric at their waist, falling down around their knees. The sleeves ended at their elbow with an embroidered cuff with the same pattern as Martin and Tim this time done in black. Their mask was shaped almost like butterfly wings arcing up above their eyebrows and below onto their cheeks making them even more striking.

They glared at him and Tim realized with a start their mouth was moving, "-not even listening are you?"

"Hmm?"

Jon sighed the lightest of smiles tugged at their lips, "Nothing Tim it wasn't important."

"Sorry, guys it’s just you all drop-dead gorgeous. As in, if you all keep being pretty my brain will shut down and I'll drop dead."

He watched as Sasha rolled her eyes, her gold mask shimmering in the early evening light coming through the window. He didn't even really see her dress. It seemed reddish-orange but he was stuck on her eyes, so dark you could get lost in them….

"Yes yes Tim no need to keep fishing for compliments we're all sufficiently dazzled by your looks too," She teased lightly.

Tim fell into a flustered silence. How did they not know how serious he was about his compliments?

"Do you think there will be music?" Martin asked, looking out the window.

"Maybe, I know Elias has an appreciation for music, there's a violin case in his office," Jon said somewhat dreamily. Tim felt a pang in his chest but managed to grin and wiggle his eyebrows.

"If there is will you all save me a dance?"

Jon just clicked his tongue and sighed, not dignifying it with an answer. 

Sasha just laughed and said, "Shut up Tim." 

But then Tim’s eyes landed on Martin. Martin had a tentative smile and nodded seeming unsure. 

Because he was serious. He knew Tim serious! Tim felt a smile overtake his face. Martin, handsome, sweet, self-deprecating was the first to take Tim's advances seriously and he had agreed to dance with Tim.

This night was looking up.

*** 

Peter yawned as his beloved ex-husband prattled on even further about the night's oncoming proceedings. All the avatars were stood around a ballroom floor waiting for the event to begin

"Now remember the highest bidder gets the first pick of which archivists they mark and when. You are not to let the archivists realize you are minor fear deities," he said for the billionth time, "Everyone acts polite and keeps their masks on. You are all donors to the institute. Absolutely no marking them tonight."

A knock finally sounded at the door signaling the end of Elias's speech.

"They're here," Elias said straightening his tie and signaling Grifter and his band to play one of the pre-approved, non-murder frenzy, jazz songs. Elias made his way through the many curtains that draped the room toward the door and peter followed a little behind wanting to get a look at these new archivists. Soon four figures entered the room and as the last one entered, Peter's breath caught.

***

As Tim entered he saw a room draped floor to ceiling with silks of different colors the room was hazy as if filled with smoke but it didn’t smell like fire. The light that streamed through the curtains was faintly colored and warm and it felt like a dream until Elias walked out from between the curtains and greeted them.

"Jon," Elias's smile seemed softly surprised to see them, "you look lovely in green."

"O-oh thank you, Elias, as do you," Jon stuttered out and Tim grit his teeth.

"Tim, Sasha," Elias said in greeting, "please, get comfortable, mingle. Food and dancing will come later. Ah, Martin! Well, it seems our friend Angelo has worked his magic once again. You look nice."

Tim opened his mouth to tell Elias to fuck right off when Martin's hand gripped his arm

"Thank you, Elias, the clothes are lovely."

"Anything for my archivists of course," Elias smiled and walked off.

Sasha spoke first, "I'm going to kill him."

"Guys it's no big deal," Martin said with a shrug, "I know I'm not exactly… ya know the most pretty person."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it like that," Jon said, brow furrowed, "He was right Martin you do look… very nice."

They flushed a little and Tim couldn't help but grin.

"Well… We came here for a reason right?" Sasha said pulling aside one of the curtains and revealing more of the room, "let’s go boys."

***

"I want that one," Peter whispered quickly to Elias the moment he could get to his side without being too obvious, gesturing to the one in blue and grey who was already so lonely.

And he was… More than a little pretty.

Elias arched an eyebrow, "Do you now? Are you willing to pay? I could always hand him over to Annabelle, Grifter expressed interest as well…"

"Five hundred thousand, transferred to your bank account by tomorrow."

Elias's eyes lit up, "Why Peter, it's almost as if you have a personal interest in Martin…"

Martin, was that his name?

"So what if I do we aren't married right now," Peter challenged.

Elias laughed, short and false, "I couldn’t care less who you’re interested in."

"No of course not, that’d be ridiculous," Peter agreed.

"Yes it would," Then Elias smiled cruelly, "For five hundred thousand, I suppose you can have him and I'd say it buys you an introduction as well."

"You're too kind," Peter rolled his eyes.

***

The way the curtains draped around the room, only slightly see-through, made everything feel weirdly intimate. They divided the room up into dozens of smaller spaces with only the barest hint of movement coming from the outside. 

The four of them were together, nearly touching in just one of those spaces.

"Where do you think the music is coming from?" Martin asked, turning slowly as he looked around.

"Sounds like everywhere," Sasha said with a frown, "I uh... you remember the other night after Burroughs?"

"Of course," Jon said.

"Maybe we should have a buddy system tonight just in case? That way we don't get separated in all this."

"We could cover and say the other person is our date," Martin suggested, "That way we have good reason to not be separated?"

"Unfortunately that probably is the best plan," Jon agreed with a sigh, "So, who's with who?"

They all looked at each other for a long moment, unsure of how to divide up the group. Tim knew it was just a ruse but he would kill for a chance to walk around this place linked arms with any of the three of them.

Then the curtains parted suddenly.

"Martin, Jon, come with me, there someone I'd like you to meet," Elias was smiling and offering his elbow to Jon who practically jumped at the opportunity.

"Ah- yes, certainly," they said resting their hand in the crook of Elias's elbow.

Elias flicked his gaze up to Tim for just a moment and Tim had the strange and terrible notion that Elias somehow knew what he'd just been thinking. That he knew how Tim felt about Jon.

Then Elias’s glance moved on to Martin and the moment past

"Oh uh- sure yeah, lead the way," Martin said awkwardly.

"Excellent." And with that half their group disappear in a swish in curtains.

"Well, I guess that leaves you and me Sash," Tim offer his elbow to her, "Let's mingle."

"Tim we don't have to do the whole date thing, I know you were hoping for Jon or Martin, it's alright," Sasha rolled her eyes with a laugh.

Tim sighed. Why in God’s name did he have to fall in love with Jon and Sasha, the world’s most oblivious pair. So oblivious that they didn't even notice their feelings for each other yet. Well, at least he had half a chance with Martin still.

"Contrary to what you believe I would also enjoy you being my date to this."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah whatever, why don't we just go find out where that music is coming from huh?" 

Despite her exasperated tone she linked her arm with his and parted the curtain ahead of them.

***

Peter watched as Elias returned to their own little alcove linked arm and arm with the scrawny little thing that he knew to be Elias's favorite of the archivists. They were clearly enamored with Elias, Peter recognized the look from the wedding photos from his and Elias’s first, second, and eighth marriages.

When he looked away from them he saw Elias looking back at him with a slight curve to his mouth and an arch to his eyebrow.

'Jealous?' The look almost seemed to say. But the curtains ruffled behind them and revealed precisely who Peter had been wanting to see. And he allowed himself to smile openly if only to piss Elias off.

"Jon, Martin, I'd like you to meet one of our most generous donors, and my ex-husband, Peter Lukas. Peter, these are two of my archivists."

Peter saw the little one’s eyes- Jon was it? He saw their eyes widen at his last name, recognition. They flicked their eyes over to Martin and Martin's face was impassive. 

"Very sorry for your recent loss, Mr. Lukas, were you and Evan close?" Martin's tone was consoling but there was something subtly sharp in his eyes and Peter liked him all the more for it.

A man who knew how to deceive was someone who knew better than to completely trust people, and they tended to get lonely easier. If Martin’s collected demeanor was anything to go by he was a very lonely man already.

"Did you two know my nephew?" Peter asked, somewhat surprised that the least lonely of their family was why they recognized his name.

"We knew his fiancee," Jon said quietly, their words weren't accusatory but it was clear they blamed Peter personally for what happened to Naomi Herne.

Elias was right, they really were moving quicker than the last archivist had.

"Ah yes, poor girl, didn't know her well personally but…"

"But no one really does anymore anyway," Jon said with finality. They weren’t even trying for subtlety.

"To answer your question, no. Evan and I were never particularly close."

Martin nodded as if Peter was only confirming his suspicions.

"Well," Elias said after a long, lovely, uncomfortable silence, "As I was telling you earlier. Out of our archivists, Martin and Jon have to most official qualifications. Jon here has been working at the institute since I myself was a mere archival assistant. And Martin why don't you tell Peter about your particular qualifications?"

"O-oh uh right well it’s not really anything too special, I have a degree in parapsychology and… well you know, what else was I going to do with it?"

"Too true," Elias agreed, "It's almost as if your resume was specially crafted for the Institute."

Ah, so Martin had faked his qualifications! Elias was doing a very good job of making Martin vulnerable. Peter wasn’t sure he cared for it, he preferred to do this work himself.

"Elias, is everything tonight going to be business? I think we were all promised a party," Peter cut in and he saw Martin visibly relax, so Peter posed his own question, "so Martin is your husband or wife here tonight?"

"Er- I'm actually not married."

That boded well for Peter, not that people couldn’t be lonely in a marriage (he was a prime example himself) but Martin was rather handsome and Peter did still respect the sanctity of marriage, despite everything.

"Ah, boyfriend or girlfriend then?"

"Nope, just single," Martin laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Ah good news for me then, that means I can ask you for a dance."

"Oh!" Martin's eyebrows shot up, "Um well…"

"Sorry, I know I'm not exactly a catch, probably a touch too old, but I've heard a lot about you, and on top of it Elias never mentioned how gorgeous you were. I thought I'd ask."

Martin colored, "No Uhm- thank you, yes, let's."

Jon shot him a scathing look and Martin shrugged like 'what?'.

Elias's gaze on Peter was tangible and cold.

Peter allowed himself another smile.

***

Everyone at this party was a monster.

Tim was absolutely sure of it and it seemed Sasha agreed because she was giving him desperate looks to come save her from whoever that pair of people she was talking to was and Tim was more than glad for the excuse.

"Oh, Jude I'm sorry, as much as I am deeply interested in the interworking's of plastic explosives and their effects on wax, my girlfriend seems to be trying to get my attention."

"You’re trying to escape," Jude said narrowing her eyes.

"Escape? Course not, We're mingling," Tim let out a loud boisterous laugh that he didn't feel and went over to Sasha.

"Oh, Tim!" Sasha exclaimed, "here he is, Nikola, Graham, this is my Tim. 

Tim could float on air for the next week from just those two words, “Hi.”

“Tim, this is Nikola and her date _Graham_."

She tightened her grip on his hand slightly on the word Graham, despite the smile still pasted on her face. _Oh._ That wasn’t Graham at all was it? This proved it, not that meeting Maxwell Rayner hadn't been telling on its own but two confirmed fear monsters?

They had to get out of here.

"Lovely to meet you," Tim extended a hand to Nikola, she was wearing gloves but when she shook his hand Tim knew that what was under them couldn't be human skin.

The masks that covered everyone’s faces in here felt much more sinister now.

"Lovely To Meet You Too!" Nikola exclaimed

"May I have your name again?" Not Graham asked politely enough but Tim didn't like the phrasing.

"You can call me Tim," He said shaking Graham’s hand too, "Unfortunately I got a text from Jon and they said the boss needs us right away, so if you'll excuse us?"

"Of Course!"

Tim and Sasha walked away, but neither dared talk until they were several curtains away from Jude, Nikola, and Graham.

"Oh thank goodness,” Sasha exhaled once they should be out of earshot, “Nikola kept flirting with me and telling me how beautiful my skin was and Graham kept asking for childhood anecdotes."

"Oh boy, lots of fun and spooky times at the company funding party. Should we go find Jon and Martin? We should update them on what we know."

"Oh yeah, let’s. But uh which direction did. They go again?"

"Away from the music, I think?"

"Which direction is the music coming from though?"

She was right it sounded like it was just as distant as before and it seemed to come from everywhere at once

"...hmm,” Tim said, dissatisfied, “Still can’t tell.” 

She nodded, “Let’s just start walking, we're bound to hit a wall eventually, and then we'll follow that around."

"Good idea."

***

Elias had left Peter and Martin with Salesa and he and Jon had wandered off.

"So your both sea captains, that's pretty cool," Martin said awkwardly.

"Ah indeed in many ways we deal in similar goods," Mikaele said with a smile, "say would you like to meet some people far more interesting than myself?"

"I mean you're plenty interesting!" Martin told him, kindly. Unable to sit with someone saying something unkind about themself if it wasn’t him.

"Not as interesting as these lovely ladies, I assure you," Salesa said with a mischievous kind of smile as he led them through a series of curtains and parting another to reveal two women that Peter recognizes with distaste, "Gentleman may I introduce Miss Jane Prentiss and Miss Annabelle Cane?"

***

"Sash, how long have we been walking?" Tim asked as they parted yet another set of curtains, they had long ago begun following the boards of the hardwood floor to avoid going in circles.

They still hadn't found where the room ended.

"Don't know, phone's dead," She said softly, clearly trying to keep her voice light.

"Okay."

Tim reached over and took her hand, she looked down at the point of contact and nodded, tightening her grip just slightly.

"Don't let go alright?"

"Okay."

***

When Peter and Martin finally found Elias and Jon again Peter could feel Elias's eyes on him long before he could even see his silhouette through the curtains and their voices carried so that Peter could hear from some untold distance away, how was one to really know with the room sectioned off like this.

"Elias I- thank you for inviting me tonight, us I mean."

"Oh, I hear Jon!" Martin said cheerfully, at some point he had begun hanging on Peter’s arm, and Peter hadn't been able to bring himself to do much except press into the contact so when Martin began walking toward Elias and Jon Peter was being dragged along as well.

"You’re welcome,” Elias said and then let out a laugh that was likely supposed to sound self-deprecating to the untrained ear, “though I must admit it was for entirely selfish reasons. I'm afraid part of me, if might beg your pardon for it, was just hoping for a reason to talk to you more."

Peter knew that was a lie but Elias, for all his talk, was a very jealous man and couldn’t stand Peter wandering without making an attempt at doing the same.

"O-oh," Jon fell for it hook line, and sinker, "Elias there's actually something I need to talk to you about, I promised the others I wouldn't but…"

Martin froze in his tracks, eyes wide.

"Martin?" Peter asked softly.

"You can tell me anything Jon," Elias assured him.

"It's just- do you believe in the supernatural?"

Elias hummed in false contemplation. Martin was wound like a spring and suddenly started moving toward them quicker, stopping when he accidentally tugged Peter’s arm and seemed to remember Peter was there.

"I believe in so far as someone who has dedicated their life to the research of such things must believe in it."

Martin bit his lip, "Sorry, I just-" he broke off as Elias continued.

"However recently I can't help but believe in fate."

"Really?" Jon sounded disbelieving.

"Yes. Somethings just work out too wonderfully to be mere chance. Like my being allowed to see you more often for example. I have to thank fate for such fortunate circumstances."

"That's not fate, that's a promotion," Jon pointed out but their voice was slightly breathless.

Peter and Martin and both given up any pretense of not listening in and a good together listening intently. Parting another curtain they were able to see only one silhouette, Jon and Elias standing close enough to not be distinct from one another.

"Then, I suppose, I thank you for accepting my company," Elias said, voice low. He was still watching Peter for a reaction but truth be told Peter was more interested in Martin's horrified expression. Perhaps he’d also fancied Jon?

"Elias, what-" Jon's voice was cut off and finally Peter recognized the look on Martin's face. Betrayal. At that moment, he parted the curtains and Martin watched as Jon and Elias sprung apart from a kiss that was far too gentle to be real on Elias's end.

"Martin!" Jon exclaimed.

"Jon," Martin said. 

"I wasn't ah-" They began to explain

Martin interrupted, turning away from them, "Peter would you like to go for that dance now?"

Peter hadn’t expected such a quick turnaround on that jealousy but he was hardly complaining, "It would be my pleasure."

"Martin," Jon began.

"Excellent idea Martin," Elias praised, "let’s go I'll tell the band to strike up something lively to dance to."

***

"Oh dear little archivists, I'm very sorry," a voice shattered off the distant ever-shifting walls. 

How long had they been here? Days? Weeks? Tim stumbled, the voice only making the dizziness from his hunger that much worse.

Tim had long since stripped off his suit jacket and discarded it on the floor behind them. His tie and Sasha’s heel went the same way, the masks wouldn't budge, the material had sensation in it, Tim could feel it when he tried to peel it off, like digging his nails into his eyes, but that couldn’t be.

"Who’s there?" Sasha cried out.

"Just me," A thing stepped into their little curtained off area, it was all angles and screaming color, and was horribly human-like, “I am sorry about trapping you, I was trying to catch someone else. Have either of you happened to see a flesh hive around here?"

"Uhm? I- No?" Sasha said. She was more together than Tim. She’d known what to do during these weeks. Reminding Tim not to cry because they didn’t have water to replace the tears. Telling him when the music was closer so they could rest. She remembered her words quicker.

"Well, as much as I like to see beautiful people in various states of undress, here are your clothes,” their discarded clothes appeared in its hands.

“What are you?” Tim breathed.

“Tim!” Sasha whisper-shouted, a plead.

It laughed, and Tim felt a sharp pressure behind his eyes, “No no he’s quite right, that is a _very_ good question.”

“Then **_what are you?_** ” Tim Asked.

The curtains around them fluttered.

“Oh,” It giggled, “You’re very good at that for one so fresh, _she_ couldn’t do that right away. Not quite enough for me yet, but it was very chilling.”

“She? What do you mean?” Tim said somewhat helplessly.

“Gertrude,” Sasha said instantly, the eyes on her mask seemed to blink but Tim couldn’t be sure, “He means Gertrude.”

“It,” It corrected, “I am a what, archivist, please address me as such. ‘They’ if you really wish to force me to retain some level of identity but even when I had a name ‘he’ never fit.”

“Oh sorry,” She said because she was Sasha, and being unkind was unthinkable even when speaking to a monster, because even when she was scared she had the good sense to still try to figure out what was going on.

“It’s alright, now get dressed so I can let you both out.”

It handed Sasha their clothes and she slipped on her shoes as if she had any reason to listen to it, she thrust his jacket and tie in his direction.

He too them numbly, simply watching her. He didn’t move.

“Tim, dressed, now,” She ordered, the was steel in her gaze. And her expression was almost audible in the way it said, ‘Trust me, I know what I’m doing.’

He slipped the jacket on and hung the tie over his neck and tied it loosely. It didn’t make sense but the music was closer now and this was Sasha so Tim would do whatever she needed.

“Wonderful!” It exclaimed, “Now, this way you two, ladies first.” It parted a curtain to its left and revealed a ballroom floor, populated with people, the music instantly became less muffled.

A draft blew through the opening and Tim felt as if he was breathing for the first time ever. He took a shaky step toward the door and the pain of the curtain rooms was ebbing away, the thirst, the hunger.

“Thank you, Mx….?”

“Ah names, yes well the last one I used was Micheal, you can use that too if you want.”

“Thank you, Micheal,” Sasha smiled, “I like your hair, by the way, it’s very pretty.”

Tim’s vision shattered for just a moment as Micheal skipped like a DVD. There were suddenly two figures where it once stood, one a horrible stilted thing that curled and twisted into itself and made Tim’s head hurt to focus on it and the other a slight young person with long blonde hair that fell in ringlets around their shoulders.

Then Micheal was back with a shuddering flicker, and a grin that was far tighter, “Tricky archivist.”

Sasha shook her head, ushering Tim out, and shot Micheal a wink, “Honest archivist. Have a nice night, Micheal.”

Micheal skipped briefly again, before replying, seeming confused, “You too?”

“Thank you,” She said. 

And the curtain fell shut on the hell dimension.

Tim stopped dead in his tracks and just looked at her, “What…” he began, his voice still ragged from the hours he’d spent screaming for help, “the fuck was that?”

Sasha sighed, smoothing out her dress and lifting off her mask, which apparently was removable now, and wiping off the sheen of sweat that had built up during their trek, “That was… shit what did your architect guy call it? ‘It Is Not What It Is, ‘The Maze’, Madness…?”  
‘  
“The Spiral,” Tim breathed.

“Yeah, I didn’t recognize it until I heard it laugh but I remember there was a door in artifact storage sometimes, that laughed like that.”

“A door laughed,” Tim repeated.

“Yeah it uh it took David, he was just an intern, trying to work his way through the psychiatric program at his university. He was… honestly an ass and we all avoided talking to him usually, we all forgot to mention not to touch the door.”

“Oh… Sash I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, “I’m honestly just surprised it let us out. It almost seemed… nice?”

Tim’s face fell, “It trapped us in there for god know how long and it seemed _nice?_ ”

“It didn’t mean to trap us,” She defended, “Besides, you have to admit it was kinda cute.”

Tim breathed out slowly, biting back the flare of anger toward her. How was she being so flippant about this? They could have died and she’d been flirting with that _thing_.

“I- I need a few minutes,” Tim said ripping off his mask, dropping it on the floor, and turning to walk away. 

“I- yeah okay,” She said, seeming to decide against stopping him.

He planted himself firmly on the edge of the small stage from which the band was performing, not daring to leave the communal space again, much less alone.

He took a few deep breaths. Sasha was just coping, Tim didn’t have room to talk really did he? He made jokes when he was stressed usually or apparently screamed until his voice stopped working, and apparently Sasha dealt with stress by flirting. Flirting with literally anybody but Tim because not once during that time had she said anything in response to his flirting and jokes… in fairness both had sort of died off after a few days...

He sighed in relief, at least they were out now, and even if both their phones had died in there they could find jon and martin and maybe they could all go somewhere safe, their homes, their archives.

Then Martin and Jon walked in hanging on to some old man and Elias. Jon’s fingers were laced with Elias’. Martin was pressed closely to the older man’s side and the older man looked all too pleased about it.

Great! Tim let out a low breathy chuckle that quickly grew to something deeper and more manic. So people who ranked above Tim was now manipulative asshole capitalist, someone old enough to be any of their father, and the embodiment of madness! Wonderful, just great, what next? Would Sasha decide that Nikola had her own special kind of charm? Would Jon have a fling with a death deity?

In his mad laughter, he didn’t notice the thick spiked boots stomping over to him until a weighty hand landed on his shoulder. Tim quieted instantly.

Everything felt unspeakably still without the music playing.

“Angry?” A man in a brown suit stood behind him with half a grin.

Tim nodded.

“You play?” He gestured with a thumb over his shoulder at the other band member with a guitar.

Tim nodded hesitantly, it’d been years since he’d picked up a guitar but… 

“C’mon, Jack needs a break,” He said and walked back to his place a the front of the stage, behind a keyboard. Tim stood shakily and accepted the guitar from Jack, who grunted out a grateful sound. 

He walked to Jack’s old spot.

“You sing?” The man on drums asked.

“I can.”

He nodded approvingly, “Go on then archivist. Show us how it’s done.”

“I don’t know the kind of music you all play…”

The keyboard guy shook his head, “Just play, you’ll figure it out.”

Tim nodded, exhaled shakily. He saw Jon, Sasha, and Martin looking at him with wide eyes as if he might finally be a bit interesting. The look in Elias’ eyes was murderous and Tim just grinned.

Or maybe he was baring his teeth. 

A low growl left his throat as he tore a chord out of the instrument in his hands. He played like it was a part of his body, like it was a weapon, and the crash of drums followed. The keyboard added a melody that Tim couldn’t hear for the rush of blood in his ears, couldn’t hear for the sound of whatever was coming out of his mouth, couldn’t hear for the look in his loves faces as he ripped and rended the music. Biting down on syllables he didn’t recognize and screaming notes he’d never known.

It felt like laughing. It felt that moment of sickly surprise as you start a fight and the biggest guy’s fist starts coming for your face. And god it felt good.

What felt best was the fear that played across Elias’s face. Tim didn’t know why he was afraid and he didn’t care, he wanted to pull on that fear and unspool Elias’s entire sniveling scheming Jon-stealing form and leave only whatever awful creature remained.

And then the song ended.

There were tears on Tim’s face and he was panting, his fingertips were red and raw from where he gripped the guitar too tightly.

The man in the brown suit crowed out a laugh, “Damn you killed it, look at them.”

Tim did, as the rush of adrenaline faded he saw that Elias was not the only one afraid, three sets of frightened eyes in particular, he felt more than the others.

He looked down at the guitar in his hands. What had it done to him?

Martin and Sasha stood frozen. But after a moment Jon announced perfectly smoothly and just loudly enough, “Elias, thank you so much for tonight, this party was… really wonderful…”

With that they released Elias’s hand, “But I think my fellow archivists and I should really be getting home, we have lots of filing and such to do tomorrow. Besides, I have a feeling we already have some rather interesting stories to swap.”

Jon urged Tim off-stage (not before the man in the brown suit, Alfred Grifter he said his name was, handed him a business card) and Jon shepherded Sasha and Martin toward the door.

***

“Martin…” Peter managed to catch his hand before he went. His hand was soft, such a contrast to Peter’s, “Do you maybe wanna go for coffee tomorrow?” He found himself, nervous in a way he wasn’t used to. 

“Uhm- really?”

“Yeah,” Peter smiled a bit at his hesitance, “Tonight… got weird what with your coworker making out with my ex-husband and your other coworker screaming in an indecipherable language to rock music. I’d like to retry this if you’ll let me?”

“Martin,” Jon called, “The car’s here.”

“Be right there,” Martin called, he search Peter’s face for just a moment, “There’s a coffee shop two blocks from the institute, I’m there every day at seven forty-five to pick up breakfast before work. Does that work for you?”

“I’ll be there,” Peter grinned.

“Great,” Martin smiled and after just a moment’s hesitation pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek and went for the door. Peter froze and let Martin slip away.

“What was that?” Elias demanded.

Peter huffed out a laugh, “I have a date.”

***

They all climbed in the car and the air was tight and silent.

“Sooooo, who was the old dude?” Tim finally asked because he knew he couldn’t address Jon and Elias as an item without getting angry.

“His name is Peter... He’s very sweet and very rich and...well, we have a date tomorrow.”

“Oh so you have a sugar daddy, “ Tim grinned, that he could be down with.

“Sorry, just gonna cut in here and add a lovely little detail martin’s leaving out,” Jon chimed in angrily, “His last name is _Lukas_.”

“Wait as in-” Sasha began.

“Yes, as in the ones Naomi warned us about.”

“Oh well you’re one to talk with your tongue halfway down Elias’s throat when he was the one who invited Peter there, so either they’re both bad or they’re both just caught up in a bad crowd.”

“You kissed Elias???” Sasha asked, “Jon we talked about this we can’t trust him, we don’t know how deep he is into all this, well I mean, _now_ we do because literally everyone at that part tonight was connected to this. Rainer, Lukas, Not-Graham, hell even the spiral made an appearance. You _can’t_ get involved with him.”

“No, he’s fine. He doesn’t even believe in this sort of thing,” Jon defended.

“Oh yeah, Jon tell them how you know that,” Martin said, venom in his voice that was unexpected.

“He told me,” Jon grit their teeth as they spoke.

“Yep right after Jon tried to betray us and tell Elias everything we know!” Martin said in a fake cheerful tone, his face fell, “The only reason they didn’t get to spill everything was that Elias was too busy trying to seduce them to pay attention.”

“Whatever!” Jon exclaimed and they all fell into silence for a few moments as if that concluded the discussion.

Jon set their Jaw and let out a huff knowing they couldn’t leave it there, not after tonight.

“I didn’t know you could play guitar or speak any other language,” Jon said softly.

“Yep I’m pretty sure I was mildly possessed, but if it helps I threw away Al’s card as soon as we left,” Tim said tiredly.

“Well Sasha looks like you had the most normal night, “ Martin said in a valiant attempt at a laugh.

“No, Martin, That would be you actually,” She said gently, “Tim and I will give our statement tomorrow.”

Tim nodded, then reached across the seat so his fingertips were just brushing hers, “Hey Sash, sorry for before.”

“It’s alright, you were stressed, sorry I hit on an actual monster that almost ate us.”

“S’okay.”

The ride was quiet after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's _my_ fear party and i can shoehorn as many traumatic cameos _as i want_ into it


End file.
